I just wanted to write something random… So yeah, here it is!

Not historically based… but it is geographically based. Kind of cracky too, and wouldja look at that, you don't normally get that from me!

I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

It had been that frozen moment, the squeak from America, the surprised look on France's face. While England had just snapped at the Frenchman to keep his hands to his bloody self, America had turned an interesting shade of pink, sputtering a little nonsensically at France.

France, however, started to smirk, obviously thinking that he knew what was going on. "Ah, Amerique… What exactly are you wearing under your pants, hm?"

Germany gave a small groan, as though he realized that this meant a significant delay of the meeting. Italy just cocked his head to the side curiously, asking, "What's so interesting about underwear?"

"Bloody pervert! You don't just grope people and ask them what they're wearing!" England seemed more than happy to be angry at France, even though he hadn't been the one who had been accosted by the Frenchman's ever wandering hands.

"I-I have important things to talk about, like um… recycling superhero costumes! So, uh, this'll have to wait til another time," America said, sounding rather shaky. However, France wasn't taking that for an answer, and he shook his finger at the superpower.

"Must be something pretty kinky, oui?" At the increasing red on America's face, France winked at him and added, "We can go discuss it in private, if you'd like…"

"No! No, no, that's fine, I'd really rather get back to the meeting…" America was adamant, gathering up papers and not looking France in the eye. Germany spoke up, pointing out, "The break is more than over. We're running late."

"Quit being such a lecherous cur and just go sit in your seat!" England demanded, seeming very much irritated at the interruption. Germany just shook his head, muttering, "We don't care what he's wearing!"

"It might be funny," Russia said, smiling innocently and twiddling his thumbs. It sounded rather as though he were in support of finding out, though what his motives were was anyone's guess. America looked a little flabbergasted, snapping at him, "It wouldn't be funny, you dirty commie!"

"Why? What are you wearing?" Italy was as clueless as ever to the atmosphere, blinking and looking at America as though he shouting for no reason at all. Japan coughed quietly into his elbow, as though he wanted to remind Italy how impolite it was to ask such a question, but he didn't dare to point that out.

"Just tell us, mon ami… It can't be that embarrassing, can it?" France raised his eyebrows, as if to suggest that whatever it was could in fact be bad, and sounded as though it were by continued denial. He invaded America's personal space once again, adding, "We won't laugh, I promise…"

America appeared flustered, backing against the wall. "France! Stoppit! It's nothing, I'm not wearing anything weird, just boxers, alright?"

"That's not what I felt~" France said in sing-song, smirking at America and staying well within his personal space. Italy looked mildly interested, though obviously clueless. "Ve, what did you feel?"

"This is not a meeting-appropriate topic," Germany grumbled, starting to look rather ill-humored. England had his bit to add, growling, "If America chooses to be a freak we don't need to know about it, frog!"

"I'm not a freak!" America ducked his head down, face red like he'd been running a marathon on a hot day. A completely unnoticed voice murmured, "I think we should just leave him alone."

"If you have no reason to be ashamed, then why are you hiding it?" France's question was both teasing and almost-serious, eyebrows raised reprovingly at America. The superpower squirmed, looking as though he felt rather trapped against the wall.

"It's private…" he mumbled, still not meeting anyone's eyes. Italy was quick to assure him, "We wouldn't tell anybody, ve~!"

"Exactly, we wouldn't tell," France echoed, while Germany groaned in the background. England was quiet, almost as though he were truly interested as well, and Japan craned a little closer.

"Well, um, it's just that, I don't know…" America stumbled, eyes darting around and looking for someone to object to knowing this about him. England snapped at him, looking quite impatient, "Well, if you're going to tell us, tell us already! This is a bloody waste of my time!"

"I have… I have a (mumble)…" America murmured very quietly, fidgeting with his fingers. France leaned in to hear better, saying, "Speak up, Amerique!"

"I have a tail, alright?" America snapped back, glaring at France but immediately breaking the gaze to look abashedly away. There was stunned silence for a moment, before England broke forth with, "Rubbish! I changed your diapers, and you have never had a tail!"

"You can't be serious!" France chimed in, shaking his head at what he obviously thought to be a lie. America frowned, still looking away. "I got it when I got Florida, okay?"

"Show us." Russia projected a creepy aura, but still smiled almost sweetly at America. America balked, replying, "No! I'm not showing you anything!"

"Ve, Japan, do you have a tail?" Italy looked over at the quiet nation curiously, but Japan shook his head, for once being clear in his answer. France smiled lasciviously at America, saying, "If you show us, we'll never ask again~"

"I don't believe you've got a bloody tail! I would have noticed something like that by now!" England insisted, looking ticked off at America's little story.

America looked incensed and embarrassed all at once. "I'm not lying! Why would I lie about this?"

"To cover up the embarrassing thing you're really wearing," France supplied helpfully, adding, "It must be pretty risque to make up a story like that."

"Wait, he doesn't have a tail?" Italy asked, looking confused. Germany made a rather loud harrumph, as if trying to get them to turn their attention back to the meeting. As if that was going to happen now.

"I do have a tail! I'm not wearing anything risky!" America protested, glaring at France. Russia just smiled again, stating, "Prove it."

"You know, alright, fine!" And right there, in the middle of the conference room, America dropped his drawers partway and turned around. There was a silence, for the second time.

"There! You see, I do have a tail…" America's voice trailed off in the silence, as he seemed to notice their stares. For there, in front of them, a small piece of flesh protruded where America's tailbone should have ended.

Italy was the first to speak. "Oh, so he does have a tail!"

"But how the bloody- You can't just get a tail!" England sputtered, trying in vain to come up with reasoning against the appendage in front of him. Russia just smiled, saying, "It is so small. I think it is cute, like a puppy tail, da?"

America quickly covered it again, giving a quick glare to the flabbergasted France. "So there!"

"Can you wag it?" Italy just had to know, looking curiously at the American. America shook his head. "No, it's just there. It's kinda useless, really."

"Can we just get back to the meeting?" Germany did not seem at all in awe of the strangeness of America's anatomy, teeth practically grinding against each other in impatience. America was quick to sit down, while England continued to sputter, and France just seemed… out of it.

However, all the nations took their seats eventually, while Italy asked more questions of America, some inane, some actually expected.

There was one thing that France knew for sure, however; he might be a little more cautious about his assumptions in the future. He did not want to see another natural human tail ever again.

/AN/ I hope you liked it. It's just kind of my rebuttal to the whole 'Florida-is-America's-junk' theory. To me, it doesn't really make sense, cause that would mean America didn't have any junk until he got the Florida territories. Also, got the idea partly from some movie I saw when I was a kid. Can't recall for the life of me what it was.

Oh, and for readers of my story Savage: The next chapter is nearly done, I am just swamped with college work and it is going to be one whopper of a chapter.